


Aozora

by Empatheia



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Exploration, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empatheia/pseuds/Empatheia
Summary: Kuroko comes to an unexpected conclusion. Kise is very fine with it.





	Aozora

**Author's Note:**

> If you're not into toppy Kuroko and/or subby Kise, feel free to skip.

Kuroko paused midstep and looked back over his shoulder at Kise.

He didn't have to crane his neck quite so far these days. It also helped that Kise was three steps behind him on the stairs.

"Sometimes," he said quietly, "I wonder what you'd do if I called your bluff."

Kise's eyes widened. He stopped dead, transfixed. "If you--"

It was too late. In that moment, Kuroko was already gone, vanished into the blue summer sky and blinding sunlight.

Unanswered, the words settled into Kise to haunt him.

x

It was three weeks before Kise found an excuse to visit him again. It was evening, practice was over, and he'd managed to catch Kuroko on his way home through the gloaming streets.

He thought about pretending it was a coincidence, then thought better of it. Kuroko had never been easy to lie to, and the more Kise cared about pulling it off, the less likely he was to be successful. Kuroko would probably see through him before he even got a word out this time.

"What did you mean?" he burst out, almost past caring about how pathetic it made him sound. "What you said--"

"About calling your bluff?" Kuroko finished for him, sky-coloured eyes expressionless. "Hmm. Well, I think it's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

It was, but… there had been an unspoken rule against mentioning it or acknowledging it, or so Kise had thought. He didn't really know what to do now. As long as Kuroko had played along, it had been able to stay a joke, easily laughed off. It had just become a boulder on a narrow track, coming straight for him. Unavoidable. Unfair.

"Kurokocchi," he whined.

A ghost of a smile flickered at the corners of Kuroko's eyes as he turned away, continuing homeward.

Kise, lost for anything else to do, followed him home.

Kuroko said nothing until they reached the door to his small home, whereupon he turned with his hand upon the doorknob and tilted his head.

"You might as well come in," he said.

Hesitating, Kise tried to read him, but as always, Kuroko was unreadable when it mattered. "Would that be okay?" he hedged, searching for some sign one way or the other.

"Would I invite you if it wasn't?" Kuroko said simply.

Somewhat reassured, Kise followed him through the doorway and removed his shoes.

The place seemed empty to Kise, dimly lit and silent without the slightest sign of human presence, but Kuroko glanced toward the entrance to the living room. "I'm home, Grandma," he said. "Are Mom and Dad still out?"

Though he ought to be used to it, goosebumps rippled over Kise's skin all over again as an answer came.

"Welcome home, Tetsuya," said the stately voice of an older woman, from what still felt like an empty space to Kise. "You've brought a friend? How unusual."

Catching Kise's shirtsleeve in his fingertips, Kuroko directed him into the living room, which was a simple tatami room with a low table in the centre and a small television on a stand in the corner. Kuroko's grandmother was kneeling straight-backed at the table, white-haired but unbent. She shared Kuroko's slight build, and the otherworldly poise of his eyes.

She smiled at him slightly as he came into her view; her smile was Kuroko's, too. Or rather, it seemed Kuroko had inherited hers. Kise relaxed slightly.

"Hello, young man," she said. "I am Tetsuya's grandmother. Please make yourself at home."

Bowing, Kise introduced himself in turn, as formally as possible. Somehow, he wanted this dignified woman to have a good impression of him, for reasons above and beyond the obvious.

"We'll be in my room," Kuroko said when the formalities were complete. "Please don't trouble yourself, I'll make tea for us."

Which he proceeded to do. The whistling of the kettle seemed almost unbearably loud within the preternatural hush of the household.

"Are all your family like that?" Kise asked, just for something to distract from the kettle. "Like you, I mean?"

After a thoughtful moment, Kuroko shook his head. "Not quite. My mother is; my grandmother is her mother, and it runs on that side of the family. My father is quiet, but he has a lot of presence, and big feelings. Extended family often comment that I inherited my mother's outside but my father's insides, and that's... reasonably accurate."

Kise was inwardly elated, not having expected such an in-depth and revealing answer. He felt almost like he'd learned more about Kuroko in the last five minutes than he had in the last six months put together. True, he hadn't actually asked many questions, but that was because he'd already felt too pushy and obnoxious as it was, not because he hadn't wanted -- desperately -- to know more. Always that fine line marking the border of what was safe, which he never had the courage to put a toe beyond.

Kuroko noticed. "It's not like I specifically intended to keep secrets," he said as he led Kise down the dim hallway to his room. "I would've told you if you'd asked."

"I know," said Kise. "I just... How come they don't come to your games?" A hideously inelegant segue, but Kuroko would understand.

Baffled, Kuroko furrowed his brows as he set the tea tray down on his desk. "They do, though?" he said. "My father's usually working when games are scheduled, but Mom and Grandma come, and Mom records them on her phone for Dad to watch later."

"I've never--" Kise started, then faltered. Seen them? Of course not. It also wasn't surprising that he'd never seen Kuroko wave to them or anything, since it was tough even for him to spot Kuroko doing most things. "Sorry. Stupid question."

"I don't mind," said Kuroko, taking a seat on the edge of his half-height bed. One mattress, no box spring, twin-sized and neatly made with grey and white sheets. It suited him. The whole home did.

After a moment, Kuroko patted the bed beside himself. "Are you just going to stand there, Kise-kun?"

Galvanized, Kise flopped onto the bed beside him, miscalculating slightly and ending up a few inches closer than he'd meant to be. It would be odd if he deliberately moved further away right now, so he didn't, but he frantically wished he could because it had just sunk in for him that he was in Kuroko's _room_ , on Kuroko's _bed_. He'd done so much daydreaming that the reality seemed too much to assimilate.

Wound up tight as a spring, he risked a glance over at Kuroko, who was sipping his tea. The room was small enough that the desk was within easy reach, but Kise didn't trust his hands right now.

"Um," he said. "Where are your parents? It would be nice if I could introduce myself to them, too."

Kuroko shrugged. "On a date," he said. "Saturday is Dad's day off, so every Friday evening they go out somewhere and don't come home till late. They've done it as long as I can remember. The only time they skip it is when one of them is sick or something big has happened, like when Grandpa passed away. They say it keeps them from getting tired of each other, to act like they're still dating after all these years. Seems like it works, I guess."

Kise was torn between fascination and a tremendous greed to know more, and dealing with the unbearable pressure of what he'd come for. He could easily spend hours like this, just asking questions and listening happily to the answers, but the other thing was obstinately in the way and it wouldn't go anywhere until he faced it down.

So.

"Kurokocchi," he said softly, "why did you let me in?"

Turning that unnerving blue stare on him, Kuroko tilted his head. "Should I not have?"

"I don't know," Kise said honestly. "It's not like I'm planning to do anything, but... well, you know how I feel."

"I do," said Kuroko. He didn't blink, or blush, or betray any other sign that he grasped the import of what he was saying. "Even I'm not that dense. What I don't know is how  _I_  feel, and I thought maybe I'd figure something out if I faced you directly."

Characteristically blunt. Catastrophically blunt. Kise felt like he might implode, or worse.

Clearing his throat, he reached for his tea and took a large sip. Thin, under-steeped, but subtle rather than dull. There was a soft echo of sweetness beneath the expected bitter. Kise wondered if that had always been there, under the usual strength of tea brewed properly. He liked it. Ruefully, he noted his own predictability.

"Wh-- Uh. Is there anything I could do that might help?" he asked once he felt sure that his voice wouldn't betray him. Part of him wanted to run. The rest was whispering  _Go on, call my so-called bluff._

This time, Kuroko's stare was so long and unblinking that Kise felt like a butterfly pinned to a board. "Something that might help?" he echoed thoughtfully. "Maybe if... Kise-kun, would you mind turning towards the door a bit?"

Mystified, Kise complied, finishing his tea and returning the cup to the desk before settling with his back to Kuroko. "Like this?" he asked.

"Yes," said Kuroko after a moment of mysterious, taut silence. Then: "Kise-kun, may I touch you?"

Freezing, Kise carefully replayed his memory of the last few seconds to ensure he hadn't misheard. When sure that he hadn't, he felt fit to climb out of his skin, except for how badly he wanted to be in it for whatever happened next. If anything.

Simultaneously apprehensive and anticipatory, he took an uneven breath. "I, uh. Sure?" he stammered. Kise Ryouta, successful model, object of worship for countless girls... useless idiot when it came to the one person who mattered to _him_. Didn't it just figure.

"Don't worry, Kise-kun," Kuroko murmured behind him. "I'll be gentle."

Disbelieving, Kise nearly turned around to look at him, but something about the situation prevented him. Kuroko had asked him to face away for a reason. He didn't want to mess this up, whatever the hell it was. "When did you acquire a sense of humour?" he asked, slightly breathless.

A brief, quizzical silence. "I haven't," Kuroko informed him.

Before Kise could ask what he'd meant by that if it hadn't been a joke, Kuroko finally made good on his implied threat.

With a hand curling around Kise's waist from behind, slipping up inside his loose shirt to wander over his stomach, and with a cool forehead pressed to the top of his spine, Kuroko called his bluff. Without hesitation or half-measures.

Had Kise _been_ bluffing, this would've been the point where he'd have to admit it, jump up and back off and admit his loss in the game.

He hadn't.

Whether that was fortunate or not was too soon to call.

His breath had left him in a huff, but now all the air in the room seemed to be trying to pack itself into his lungs at once. He couldn't seem to stop inhaling, clawing for equilibrium that escaped him.

"Is this all right, Kise-kun?" Kuroko asked, careful and serious.

"All right" didn't seem at all the right term for it, but he didn't have a better one, so he nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "I'm-- I'm good."

"Good," said Kuroko.

How was it that every word out of his mouth right now was like a velvet-padded hammer landing firmly on the strings of Kise's innards? His whole being resonated to the tenor of that softly spoken syllable. He didn't know what to do, so he just sat there and vibrated.

Slowly, slowly enough to be agonizing, Kuroko advanced his explorations. What was the opposite of "hurry"? It was more than mere "patience", and not at all "reluctance". Closer to "savour," unlikely as that seemed. Every square centimetre of his skin that Kuroko wasn't touching begged to be next. Some… some louder than others.

"Kurokocchi..." he said, miserably close to a whimper. "Is it helping?"

Another long, thoughtful pause while Kuroko's hands wandered the sides of his torso, sliding into the faint depressions between his ribs where the muscles dipped. "Yes," he said at last, "I think so. You're always touching me, and I don't dislike that, but..."

"But?" Kise croaked, trembling with the effort of holding himself still and together.

"Hmm," said Kuroko. "I felt that if I touched you back, you might either make assumptions about my wishes or run away, and I didn't want either. I wasn't sure what to do."

That was fair, and Kise knew it too well to protest. Had Kuroko done this any earlier, he may well have jumped to the conclusion he wanted most, or panicked and run. He'd needed what little maturity the last couple of years had managed to grant him.

"But you are now?" he said instead.

He felt Kuroko's headshake as hair brushing against the nap of his neck, and shuddered despite himself.

"Not really," said Kuroko, "but here you are, so I'm trying my best to figure it out."

Also fair. Kuroko was never really unfair, he thought. At least not on purpose. Most of the time, when he was accused of it, it was because of his nature, not anything he'd done. His actions were scrupulously chosen to be as fair as possible.

All that recognized: this still felt deeply unfair to Kise, and he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

Or, perhaps, he could if he was willing to face it. It was pretty simple, come down to it: he felt himself at a disadvantage because his cards were all on the table, and Kuroko's weren't yet. Of course he felt uncomfortably vulnerable in this situation, bare and honest before the person whose love he wanted, still in the dark as to whether they felt anything at all for him in return. Entirely normal and human. Entirely miserable.

"Any progress?" he asked.

Kuroko's hands stilled for a moment, warming themselves against Kise's sides. "I think I like touching you, Kise-kun," Kuroko said slowly. "What about you? Do you like being touched by me?"

Despite his best and most valiant efforts, Kise could only answer that with a soft, heartfelt moan. He sagged back into Kuroko, who compensated for his weight without difficulty or complaint and tightened his arms around Kise's midriff.

"I see," he said after a moment. "Then I'll keep going. Please tell me if you stop liking it."

That was extremely unlikely, Kise thought, but he nodded his assent anyway.

Without further ado or hesitation, Kuroko wrapped one hand around his forehead to pull him back against Kuroko's chest, and slipped the fingers of the other under the waistband of his trousers.

Arching slightly, he managed to gasp "Kurokocchi, are you sure?"

The lower hand stopped where it was, and the other slipped down the side of his face to tilt him upward and to the side. Soft but certain, Kuroko kissed him.

First, Kise was paralyzed, transfixed. Then, suddenly, he was ravenous. Writhing backwards to drive himself harder into Kuroko's arms, he twisted his neck to face Kuroko more directly and openly begged with everything he had at his disposal. Trusting much of his weight to Kuroko, he raised a hand backward to curl into Kuroko's hair and tug at him.

Kuroko obliged him, and obliged him, and obliged him.

Lost in a haze of kisses, Kise almost missed it when Kuroko's other hand resumed its journey, brushing over the coarse hairs at the base of his belly and beyond. He did _not_ miss it when it reached its destination, curving around him with some mixture of curiosity and encouragement.

He jerked upward against Kuroko's hand just a little. So much. Too much, maybe, but also not even close to enough.

Kuroko drew up a knee and settled Kise more comfortably between his legs, pulling them both back onto the bed a little further. That was good, as Kise had been in real danger of sliding off as he lost control of his limbs and faculties. The moment that was done, Kuroko's hands returned to where they'd been and renewed their efforts.

Forgetting all about Kuroko's grandmother, he moaned aloud, only to be gently hushed by cool fingers and then a kiss. Chastised, Kise hooked an arm around Kuroko's tented right knee and held on for dear life. With the other, he reached back and held on where Kuroko's shoulder met his neck.

Kuroko would never have a very impressive physique, but he was still a basketball player, with years of gruelling practice under his belt. There was muscle there, even if it didn't really show. There was strength enough, and then some.

"Kise-kun," murmured Kuroko. "It's all right, if you want to."

As if that had been an incontrovertible order, Kise's body surged up and burst all at once, catching him unprepared and breaking him to bits in Kuroko's lap. He spilled over Kuroko's fingers, and Kuroko did not tense or flinch back.

"Good," he whispered again, and every piece of Kise went to pieces of their own again at the sound of it in his ear.

He nearly sobbed Kuroko's name, yearning upwards until Kuroko kissed him again.

Withdrawing his hand from Kise's pants, Kuroko studied the results with almost clinical curiosity.

Mortified, Kise looked around for tissues, then realized he couldn't get up even if there were some. Not for at least a couple of minutes yet. "Sorry, Kurokocchi," he said. "I--"

Kuroko interrupted him. "You only did as I asked, Kise-kun," he pointed out. "I don't mind this, though I will need to clean up a bit before I go to bed. Will you be staying?"

_Staying?_

The idea hadn't even occurred to Kise, but it dawned on him that he had little choice at this point. Even if he'd wanted to flee home to his own bed to make sense of what had just happened, which he didn't really, he was a mess in several senses of the word. The journey home would be a real hardship.

"If that would be all right," he said, flush deepening to a nearly scarlet blush. "I don't want to impose--"

"The washroom," Kuroko interrupted again, "is across the hall. I don't have much that might fit you, but I'll find something. If your family might worry, please let them know."

Just like that, it was decided and plotted out for him like there'd never been a choice at all.

Loath as he was to leave the warm nirvana of Kuroko's arms, he knew that the faster he got this part out of the way, the faster he could come back. That gave him the strength to roll up to his feet and stagger in the direction Kuroko had indicated.

In his daydreams and fantasies, he'd always been the one to take the lead. He was taller, heavier, more outgoing, and had always assumed that those things would decide his role, if there was a role to be decided. That assumption was scattered in bits across the floor of his heart, and he was glad for it, and somewhat chagrined that it had never occurred to him to question it earlier.

Kuroko, though quiet and poised, had burned with decisive fire for as long as Kise had known him, though he hadn't always been able to recognize it. It shouldn't have surprised him that said fire would carry over into other aspects of his life.

He felt like he'd been given something he hadn't even understood himself well enough to want.

"Kurokocchi," he said, on returning to the room after rinsing off and towelling his hair halfway to dry. "I'm seriously in love with you."

He hadn't expected a direct answer, and he didn't get one, but the answer he got was more than clear enough to satisfy him.

Raising the covers, Kuroko invited him in.

**X**

**Author's Note:**

> I barely even shipped this the first time around, but I just binged the whole anime for the first time (previously I'd only read the manga and watched the first few episodes of the anime, if that much) and suddenly this ship has barged right into the flotilla and made room for itself. 
> 
> As always, the more the merrier.


End file.
